How soone I may ride this whole world about.
You must rise with the sun, and ride with the same,
Until the next morning he riseth againe;
And then your grace need not make any doubt
But in twenty-four hours you’ll ride it about.
The king he laughed, and swore by St. Jone,
I did not think it could be gone so soone!
Now, from the third question thou must not shrinke,
But tell me here truly what I do thinke.
Yea, that shall I do, and make your grace merry;